literally wrote this in my notes app while I was on the bus at 6am bc it’s the twins’ bday and I don’t write for Osamu nearly as much as I should.
sorry atsumu, I’m a bad wife for choosing your brother over you today.
gn!reader, no physical descriptions. very short because it was 6am.
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“Baby, what the hell are you doing?”
Osamu watches from the doorway as you yelp and whip around so fast that you almost fall off the chair you were standing on.
“Osamu, you scared me! don’t do that,” you pout.
He resists the urge to kiss it away and instead walks closer to you, knuckling one of his eyes, then places his hands on your hips to steady you.
“We’re even, then, because I was pretty scared, too, when I woke up to the sound of a chair scraping across the floor and some weird muttering,” he started, looking up at you. “Actually I got one more scare than you did, because watching my fiancé almost fall off of a chair at three in the morning wakes you up real quick.”
You look at him sheepishly and run a hand through his hair. He nuzzles into it and rests his temple against your thigh. “I’m sorry, my love, I just… forgot I had to finish something. You can go back to bed now, I’ll be okay.”
You knew getting him to go back to bed at that point was a long shot, but you also knew he was far too tired to actually register what you were trying to do in the first place.
So you’d use it to your advantage.
“Nuh-uh. Nice try though, babe. Do what you gotta do, but I’ll wait up on the couch until you’re done, kay?” he somehow manages to hold off on his yawn until he finishes his sentence.
Smiling softly down at him, you nod in agreement, patting him on the shoulder as he shuffles over to the sofa and promptly flops down onto it.
You snort. So much for being scared awake.
You focus your attention back on your task, making sure to be as quick and quiet as possible to avoid waking him up again. Part of the reason you were even up at 3am was because you knew Osamu’s senes dulled significantly whenever he was tired. there was no way you’d be able to pull off this trick in the early morning- he was an early riser anyway.
After putting the last object into place and admiring your work, you sigh in content and quietly move the chair back into the kitchen.
Truthfully, you want to go back to bed, but rather than wake him up again, you join Osamu on the couch.
Crawling on top of him as gently as you could, you laid comfortably against his chest. You smiled when you felt an arm subconsciously slither around your waist.
And when you both woke up, you got to enjoy the look on his face when he finally realized that you were putting up decorations for his birthday.
“Happy Birthday, my love!”
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https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRtCg7w6/
I keep seeing this couple on my fyp but I can’t help but immediately think of Atsumu reacting the same way lol
STOP NO I LITERALLY LOVE THEM SO MUCH AND I WANT THEM TO ADOPT ME LIKE, YESTERDAY PLS-
Like I firmly think atsumu is completely immune to your ridiculousness, but every once in a while, you do, manage, to catch him off guard.
Like he’s so comfortable with you that he’s more likely to vibe with whatever crazy thing you’re doing, but the minute he sees that big ass glass, that you’re filling with wine, he’s just… amused.
“Babe?”
You ignore him, just continuing to pour the wine in silence, and despite the absolute cackles that want to peal from your throat, you are determined to keep this damned facade.
“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you drink all of that,” he snorts, tossing his phone to the side to watch you. You glare at him as you shake the last droplets of wine out. “So… do we need to talk?”
“No- just a long day.”
“Yeah. So how about the other six glasses of wine that are in there?”
And listen. You feel mean, but anything for the bit; you snarl and turn to shoot daggers at him, “I’m fine, Atsumu.”
And look. LoOK.
If before, this was all a joke to him, it becomes so real when you say his physical, actual birth name, face slacking and paling in nervousness.
“Wait. Wait, baby-“
You take a sip, desperate to fight the smile that wants to reside on your cheeks. “You… you’re not drinking that because of me, right?”
You say nothing. He slides off the couch next to you, “because we can talk. I don’t know exactly what I did, but please, we can talk about it, I’m sorry-“
“Atsumu,” you sigh, taking another sip. Your cheeks puff out from the wine, and- god, he’s just too fucking good- when his hand gently comes up to move your head to look at him, your lips press together to spit a fine mist of the wine at his face.
He scrunches up, unamused, and when you finish the spray, he gives you the blankest look he can muster, but the glimmer of mischief is prominent.
"You got five seconds to run before I dump this whole glass on your head."
He definitely didn't need to tell you twice
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